


More than Bargained For

by Heartfulkings



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Demon AU, Demon Deals, Demon Karkat Vantas, Demon Summoning, M/M, POV Dave Strider, POV Karkat Vantas, summoning mistakes, we all make them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartfulkings/pseuds/Heartfulkings
Summary: In which Karkat is a demon, Dave is a witch with not idea what he's doing and Rose is knocked the fuck out.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Rose Lalonde & Dave Strider
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	More than Bargained For

**Author's Note:**

> Cowritten by me and hangedArtisan in Katjams on discord.

It starts with Dirk. 

If Rose was still here she’d say “it always does,” in that pragmatic manner of hers. Dave can predict her response, which is why when the two of them had spent the evening trading bottled wine and backwash, him sprawled along his patented fainting couch, her spinning idly in his desk chair, he’d resisted the urge to mention Dirk. Instead he’d confided in the fast draining bottle until his mind couldn’t make any connections from the name to that little boy yet to be locked in a tower.

He must’ve been mumbling something, something psychologically revealing enough to catch Rose’s attention, because some of that boozy glaze cleared from her eyes. Instead of providing any of her dubiously worded advice, she had cut to the chase. She said, slurred and lacking of her usual dry wit, she suggested Dave use a different sort of distraction. However grossed out he is by the suggestion- come on, that’s his _sister,_ He can’t deny the idea's appeal . 

Rose has a habit of brewing her own dreams, occupied with beautiful Succubi. They all resemble each other and they always know what to say. _We understand_ , they whisper, _we won’t leave_ , they convince her. Dave would love to claim sex and booze are Rose’s only two vices, but it digs deeper than that. 

This only happens when Rose is absolutely sloshed, and it appears she was drunk enough to suggest her happiness formula to Dave, who’s drunk enough to placidly follow this suggestion. (Who are you kidding Dave, you’d do whatever anyone tells you, drunk or not. Plausible deniability is the key phrase for today.)

He was willing to weather the horrorterrors. He doesn’t make the habit of communing with them the same way Rose does but perhaps this time things’ll work out in his favor for once. Dave hopes she doesn’t remember any of this, lest she takes this as an opportunity to call him out on his hypocrisy. Even then, using magic for such frivolity doesn’t sit well with him. 

* * *

Dave inquired about how to go about the ritual, only to get a passing shrug. A flicker of a shadow is his only warning before a tome crashes by his side. He was willing to guess it was drawn from her endless knapsack in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. 

‘Hit the books, strider. i’m not going to be babysitting your hookup’ Rose tossed boredly before taking a drag at the bottle in her hand. 

He gave the book a passing glance to the couch before groping for the bottle back from his dear sister. It was almost finished and he was certain that it was the last one in the house. Rose stumbled away from him, bottle firmly in hand before shambling off to her room. She remarked that “she hopes that her advice is enough to relax that stick up his ass.” Her jab went by with a pillow thrown at her offending face and a passing fit of giggles as Rose made her disappearance.

Dave flopped back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh with nothing else to distract him from pounding thoughts and the smell of alcohol. As if by their own volition, his fingers idly greeted the book within arms reach. He pulled it towards himself, slowly as not to encourage the line of thought he was on. He had already made the decision to do so- there was no reason to get excited over the process. There was only a spell needed, quite underwhelming for such a dangerous task, and then BAM! He gots some fantasy mumbo jumbo on his junko.His drunk mind was sure communing with lovecraftian horrors would be worth it for some ass. With one hand holding open the book, the other cleared a space in his room, knowing that whatever the spell required, it would have to be done in a spacious area. 

The grimoire is dense, in material and wording. And the WORDING, absolutely balls slapping backwards talking, could this shit just be upfront? Is that too much to ask?. It put his muddled mind through the wringer as he followed the text word by word. 

A rush of triumph shot through him, finally at the sight of RELATIONS OF DAEMON AND MORTAL, which simply had to mean Succubi. They have to interact with mortals, right? Dave flipped though easily ripped pages, not so much reading as skimming, a checklist of ingredients forming in the back of his mind. He knew he could dip into the garden for some flowers Rose kept, he recalled vialing essence YEARS back and had found no other reason to store it, and was ready to shed some blood for this venture. Dave nabbed some chalk to draw a circle on the floor boards, copying what to inscribe around and inside the circle. Dave wobbled here and there trying to draw in his crouching position while drunk but he withstood the strain of his core. He dipped to the back of the house to his room as quietly as he could in this state (he couldn’t find the balance to flashstep) which isn’t very, though silence wasn’t really of any concern. Rose had most likely knocked the fuck out at the instant her head hit the pillow, her blessing and curse. He grabbed some incense on the way back to his room, summoning his wand from the pocket he had sequestered it in. Dave rolled the wood in between his hands, warming them up to whatever this was? Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what to expect, which isn’t news.

Dave laughed at himself, all of a sudden too aware of his apartment’s emptiness. He snapped his fingers to light the incense, placed the flowers down and bustled around in search of… oh there it was. Dave dived for a pile of clothes before coming up with an athame he had been sharpening the other day. There was no bowl needed to collect anything, since the ritual required a smear of blood not a goblet full. If not anything else, Dave would be glad if that was the only blood to be shed that night. 

* * *

Slicing with little ceremony, he watches as the blood drops in the circle. A single witch standing in the middle of his living room, his impractically large hat drooping, Dave Strider made an awful lonely sight. Pitiful, one might say. 

With everything else arranged, the droplets of blood carried a sort of importance to them, providing the final sealing. Dave swayed a little on the spot, but was otherwise rather sobered by the pain. All there was left to do was to sleep, and wait. Normally this wasn't exactly an appealing idea- Dave has a habit of dreaming in isolation. Lurking around the wings of a stage while Dirk cries out for him. Parental instinct used to be a foreign concept to Dave, a twenty year three old having barely grown out of a high school teen mentality, but since that message from Condense detailing a message towards him and Rose, Dave had felt the need to grow up faster than expected. It hurts. It hurts to be given another life that depends on him so much, only to have it yanked just out of sight enough. He thinks he understands what it means to have empty nest syndrome, only ten times worse.

Tonight should have been different. Dave expected to be drugged by some choice cooch and drowning his sorrows in hot demon lady thighs, leaving no time for rumination. He made himself comfortable along his couch and closed his eyes. This time with anticipation.

The 

Emptiness 

Of 

His 

Psyche

Extends 

Into 

Comprehensive 

Language

.

.

.

'HEY SHART FACE! WAKE UP!'

* * *

The shout is enough to jerk Dave out of sleep but not enough to make whatever’s happening formulate coherence. He’s grabbing for his sunglasses, which managed to fall off in his nap somehow. Dave shrinks into himself for a second, gripping the back of his head for the headache he can feel from drinking. He’s waving off vague dark dredges of a dream, when they should have been full of pussy, (robbed he was robbed). The metaphorical fog lifts just enough to reveal a stout angry man in front of him.

It’s made clear however that the man standing in the middle of Dave’s summoning circle is stretching the definition of human quite a bit when, noticing he’s caught Dave’s attention, flares a set of wings in the same manner a wild creature might posture in the interest of catching the eye of a mate. Or, addressing competition. 

The Incubus snarls, showing off inhumanly sharp teeth that just about catch the moon’s soft glare.

‘YOU’RE FINALLY AWAKE! I THOUGHT I’D HAVE TO LIVE MY LIFE FOREVER IN THIS CIRCLE BLESSED BY THE SIGHT OF AN INTOXICATED LOSER IN FRONT OF MY EYES. OUT OF REACH FROM MY CLAWS FOR ETERNITY WHEN THEY SHOULD BE AROUND YOUR THROAT FOR EVEN *DARING* TO BE WITHIN MY PRESENCE, ONLY BEING RESTRAINED BY THE DUMB *CUNT* IN QUESTION WITHIN THIS FUCKING CIRCLE HAS MADE IT UNFORTUNATE ON MY SIDE OF THINGS. NO BIGGIE!! I’LL JUST SHOUT IN THIS EMPTY ROOM TO REST IN THE COMFORTABLE COMPANY OF MY OWN VOICE.’

Dave blinks at this dump of words that he will be honest, did not listen to a lick of. He tells the demon this tactlessly and this gets him a lovely hissy fit that ends the speech in a stumble of syllables. Since he seems too occupied to notice, Dave takes in the sight. 

* * *

The incubus, or what Dave of as the incubus in lieu of any name, is at least a head shorter than Dave, and chubby. His wingspan is impressive, pushing the circle's boundaries in such a way that it must leave them cramped. The incubus is decked out in a suit, a blinding white that seems to smoulder at the hems. The blazer has a pocket embroidered with 69. (obligatory 'nice' is due.) His skin is a charcoal that stands out against his suit, and his matted hair is topped with small, yet curled red horns. Right as Dave realizes he's been staring far too long, the incubus seems to realize this as well, and fixes him to the spot with an impressive glare, shining with malice through the bracket of eyelashes.

His voice is just as barbed as the rest of him, leaving aftertones of static that manages to be pleasing to the ear somehow. If he didn’t curse and shout so much, it’d almost make a nice background noise. ‘WELL? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? CENTURIES! IT HAS BEEN CENTURIES SINCE I'VE BEEN FUCKING SUMMONED, NAY, HARRASSED INTO THE MORTAL REALM, AND FOR WHAT. ALL THESE YEARS SPENT WISHING FOR A WAY OUT, ONLY TO HAVE THEM FULFILLED BY THE MOST NOOK CHAFING, DONKEY FUCKING MORON I HAVE EVER HAD THE DISPLEASURE OF SETTING MY EYES ON. PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! LET ME LOOSE BACK INTO THE BOWELS OF HELL. IT WOULD BE WORTH THE PAIN SO I WOULDN'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS.’

* * *

This is not the cute bimbo he had ordered at all, Dave thinks as he frowns. Already in a bad mood with a headache, the trials of living inching across his brain, the shit he had been trying to block out before. He’s ready to make it worse as he opens his mouth.

‘You must be the dustiest incubus I’ve ever seen. Centuries of not being summoned? What does that make you, America’s least wanted? Aren’t you guys supposed to show up all angelic and sexy looking? Sauntering along my mindspace with lingerie so I can pretend I’m too holy of a man to accept this tempestuous offering oh Sante Maria save me! Instead I got you, a chubby dude dressed like a damn accountant’ Dave is but a horny man disappointed. He rolls over on the couch in a clear indication that he intends to pass out. motions to go back to sleep on the couch. Going so far as to add in a hefty snore to hit that nail in the coffin that he is done with this shouting.

* * *

For a second Dave thinks this is enough for the incubus to take the hint, maybe even leave, when the touch of a clawed hand jostles his shoulder. He blinks blearily at the evening's disrupter, unable to recall the spell meant to get rid of demons. Instead of diving straight back into derision, the incubus raises his thick brow, standing like he's a disappointed parent. 

‘You were summoning an incubus?’

‘Sucubus, not gay bro.’ 

The incubus then snorts, more condescending than amused, like he's in on a secret that Dave isn't. "God help your fucking soul."

That's a ludicrous understatement, Dave thinks, before he responds. "Yeah, god fucking help me I got stuck with you. What the hell, is this some kinda karmic punishment? Did I do something wrong to be stuck with such a bitchy slut? Oh please do tell me how much my face makes you wanna hurl, I might cum from that alone. I'm fucking begging you, I bet with every inhalation of your thunderous fucking breath, smelling of hellfire and stale chips, not even the pope can resist you."

* * *

The demon, if not incubus, makes a face at the onslaught of vitriol. Instead of humoring Dave he examines the room, noting the mess that Dave and Rose had done to it in their bored drinking fest. Clothes thrown about to show off to Rose, food remnants from when they binged a tv show for the sake of a drinking game. Trash is littered on the ground and in some cases stuffed in odd places in Dave’s attempt to clean.

‘A succubus isn't all you need, fucker. Something to salvage your life together from the garbage heap that it presently is maybe,” the demon snorts.

Dave takes offense to his garbage heap, poking him in the shoulder.

‘This fucker was looking forward to having a romp or several with a lovely demon but all I’m getting from you is blue balls so I’m going to ask you to take your tone several shades back of shouting.’

‘And this fucker has a name,’ the demon snaps. ‘which you will refer to me by, you blasphemous dick squat.’

‘I didn’t know demons went by the name of Blasphemous Dick Squat, but nice to meet you sir,’ Dave pompously says. Holding out a hand to shake which is ignored by more snake spitting. He then wonders aloud, ‘Wait, I thought demons were real particular about giving off names?’ 

‘That’s faeries, the lousy snobs,’ He snorts, ‘Karkat. That’s my super duper daemon name.’

* * *

With that, Karkat arranges himself into a sitting position, adjusting himself accordingly in his small enclosure. ‘And if you think I'm an incubus, you're dumber than I thought.’ He grins joylessly, revealing fangs that are sharp enough to make Dave shudder. Dave studiously doesn't think about Karkat's body, soft, his hips rather noticeable for a man and the conjuntion of neck and collarbone so delicate- fit to be a sex demon in his own right. His train of thought then reels back so fast it almost leaves behind the sound of squealing tires. 

‘Wait, then what exactly did I summon?’ Dave asks, and his buffoonish slurring doesn't escape his sober subconscious.

‘Oh ha ha, thanks, that's not demeaning at all,’ Karkat sneers, but doesn't ignore the question. ‘You summoned a blood demon, the only of his kind. We've automatically bonded, so in theory you can just say the word, and the bond will be broken.’

Dave wrinkles his forehead, feeling the wrinkle starting to be etched in. ‘In theory?’

‘Well, your soul and whatever's left of mine would deteriorate so I don't recommend it.’ Karkat shrugs. ‘Still, I don't care either way. It's your call, oh so benevolent master.’

* * *

Soul deterioration didn’t sound pleasant so. Not severing the bond didn’t serve to be a viable solution. He was to keep it then? Yeah he supposes he has no alternate choice. A blood demon, whatever that entailed, and two witches in a house all by their lonesome. Sounds like a propaganda piece for witch reforms.

‘Ok so imma hit pause on the deteriorating my soul, like to keep that in tact for the time being. Who knows later, maybe if I’m feeling frisky.’

‘I could care less _master_ , remember? I have little soul, being a demon and all. Worse case scenario I get sent back to paperwork for Satan.’ Karkat grins guilelessly at the other. 

Dave pouts comically, tired of the dramatics dark magic seems to hold ‘Cool on you, being soulless but for those with one I’m still a little attached to mine,’ he says. 

He stands to his full height for a moment, staring down at Karkat in his room. (He can’t help but notice how… petite Karkat is, )The cogs in his brain, though slurred by alcohol and pain, were turning and he can’t make much of a guess as to what was bound to come out.

In a smooth motion, no thoughts but a decisive call to action, Dave smudges the circle of chalk with a slippered foot. The action is quick enough that Karkat has no way to mask his real reaction in time and Dave spies full lashes around widening eyes and a gobsmacked expression. Typically you were supposed to utter some words before breaking a circle to keep forces of malicious spirits and demons off your back and a barrier between the here and now. The point is rather moot. (Dave was giving no shits at this time, please call back later at the tone… beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.) He knew he would continue to think of this decision seriously given time to ponder so for once he wasn’t going to think too hard. A real Rose move if he’s being honest. Whatever this fluttering thing He was affected was going to be the distraction, planned turnout or no. (Don’t think about how faggoty that must make you. Bro is laughing like he’s never before from beyond the grave

This was also giving dubious trust to Karkat, not that Dave knew that no words meant no added restrictions. 

‘Welcome to casa Strider my hombre Karkat blood demon,’ Dave says dryly, doing jazz hands and everything.

Karkat asks,‘Is that how you wish to be addressed master Strider?’ with no detectible irony. He tilts his head in no interest towards the answer, stepping out of the circle like an inmate might in a prison break. tilting his head and walking further into the house.

‘Uhhh I don’t know anything about being any master but if you say any of this BDSM shit in front of my sister she is going to fly off the proverbial psychiatry handle in pleasure and I cannot have that in this house you hear?’ Dave points to Karkat, mock seriously. ‘Call me Dave.’

‘Dave. Daaavhhe. Dayvie.’

‘Are you done mutilating my name in your disgusting fanged maw?’

A flush lights up Karkat’s face as he straightens from staring at a shelf with some cat knick knacks placed in a quaint line, largest to smallest. For da ironies of course. 

‘I was enunciating your name, that’s all. It’s not a name typical to my kind. Would you rather I mispronounce it every time I talk to you?’

‘No no it’s chill, I just didn’t get to try my hand at ‘enunciating’ your name. Karrcat. Cahrcat. Karkless. Coarkat. Crukayt. Kurrcaht. Kohrkat. Dang that’s all the Karkat I can think of off the top of my head.”

‘Don’t worry if you thought it wasn’t enough, you fulfilled the mutilation first try.’ 

Dave snorts before realizing he’s idly walking around his own house in the dead of the night talking to a demon he summoned only an hour ago, just taking in the space and talking. He’s no longer as pained with an approaching headache and he isn’t as drunk as when he started this venture. Perhaps it was time for beddy bies. Orrrr. No bed meant facing the next day. In this liminal space he had created, he feels kinda great? Like the golden hours insomniacs talk about when they’re not feeling the burn as much and just existing.

‘Hey do demons have to eat?’ Dave asks.

* * *

  
  


Karkat sits himself atop of a stool offered to him, and leans both elbows against the counter. Dave bustles around the kitchen, throwing ramen and adding spices frivolously into a pot. It's cold, as cold as the rest of the house seems to be. Everything's cold, mostly because Karkat has never found anything that could match the heat his body produces naturally. Dave looks like he belongs here though- an inhuman presence existing in a lonely looking house. Like he's more of a ghoul than Karkat.

He watches Dave's back, bare if not for the thin shawl thrown over shoulder. He is pale all over, pale and skinny enough for bones to protrude slightly. His pure white locs, twisted and long, swallow into a mass of albino snakes. Karkat considers everything, and why he's here. He was meant to be an incubus apparently. What's stopping Dave from taking him anyway? He'd be entitled to do so. No, instead he's venturing to feed a demon who doesn't need to eat. Karkat folds his hands neatly over his lap, all of a sudden feeling too ashamed to look anymore at his new master. The last time he was summoned, he'd killed his master of thirty seconds. Not entirely by accident either. Karkat still feels the strings he'd broken tangled in his claws, invisible but having the weight of ruptured veins. It'd left Karkat weak for centuries, unable to resurface until now. He doesn't deserve this sort of treatment.

* * *

‘You know this is unnecessary? Daemon’s don’t need to eat, we take sustenance from our domains and interactions.’ Karkat’s feeding is a little more complex but he felt fed enough to hold himself over for a year or more. Almost like a snake in digestion, it takes a while to settle energy like this.

Dave glances over from the pot, pushing errant locs out of his scarlett eyes before rolling them at Karkat.

‘You’ve been correcting me on a lot of demon stuff you know, maybe you should start acting more human like since you’ll be here awhile. Try out this new fangled technology called eating, it's an intricate human ritual trust me. And try out a new palate of cuisine other than sucking some poor suckers soul of his asshole, the _indecency_ dude. You, er, naughty boy.’

Karkat wrinkles his nose at that mess of a sentence comment but doesn’t comment on it. Didn’t want to give into the jab. But phrased like that he supposed eating something wouldn’t technically hurt. It would settle into his stomach, be absorbed and that’d be that.

‘You don’t seem to know a lot of lore outside the fucking daemons so I’m trying to educate my master to better utilize the bond we’ve created. You know, the one that was cemented the second you summoned me? The one you refuse to break.; 

‘What else is there to know beside the fucking demons and maybe the occasional imp? Absolutely nada is what, because that is not my branch of magic. I’m more focused on time and dimensional shifting, along with some swordsmanship but that doesn’t count. Unless I bass boosted my sword into an unstoppable force of nature that could SLICE through time-’

A cough disrupts Dave’s ramblings and he stops stirring the mixture on the stove, snapping to attention.

‘Oh yeah the bond, what exactly do I get from this connection Karkat? Because from what I was trying to do it was supposed to be quick and done with minimal fuss.’

‘Who told you summoning demons was easy? The horror terrors alone make it a fucking trial and a half.’

‘My sister does this sort of thing often enough that I should be concerned, but I do trust her. I didn’t have to deal with those suckers either. I just took their wisdom and also a nap before being woken by your dulcet tones.’

‘I’m concerned about the sources you’re using, especially when it involves the cursed.’

Dave turns off the oven with a shrug, walking to the cupboards to take out some bowls and forks. Karkat watches him go through the motions of pouring, accepting the bowl when handed it, oddly entranced by how his joints seem to move like a marionette, bone and vein flexing a little when he fidgets a little in his seat. 

‘Careful it’s hot,’ advises Dave. He’s blowing on his own bowl but keeping it on the counter, like he’s spitting into it instead of cooling it.

Karkat rolls his eyes as he holds the hot bowl in both hands, feeling next to nothing. Really, the cold of Dave’s hand, a lingering print is the only thing of note.

‘Simply pitiful that humanity has not evolved past such frivolities as heat.’

‘Yeah yeah we suck we blow major boogies we cannot compare to the great demon race.’

‘Well of course.’ 

‘Discounting how demonkind need special portals and permission to set foot in our territory OH SHIIIT, gotta write that down.’ 

* * *

Humanity truly has gone downhill. Karkat rolls his eyes again, really at this point they actually will be permanently stuck to the ceiling, but starts on his bowl, letting the action of eating take up his current attention. It's not odd... just unfamiliar. How long was it since he's been human? Since he's had someone cook for him, since he's eaten? Karkat's constant emptiness cannot be fulfilled by cheap noodles, but with Dave watching with naive curiosity as he eats, Karkat can almost pretend it's enough. He feels his scowl loosen a bit.

* * *

Karkat is mindlessly eating his food, slowly and plodding. He’s thinking of food he’s had in the past, his claws twitch at forgotten threads. The memories are foggy but he remembers feeling satisfied after particular meals. Smiles and banter in a small kitchen. The scent of cooking food and the scrape of cutlery. As if he had eaten the sun in nourishment and it was glowing from his pores, showing how happy the food had made him. 

Now it was mechanical, cold. Keeping with the theme Dave looks like he’s taking no pleasure in his midnight snack. Slurping up noodles and eyeing Karkat but not focusing entirely on his food. The way that Strider acts is polar opposite to what he was doing and his environment. The house from what he had seen so far was a huge two story, though he had yet to explore the first floor, filled with objects that felt like someone else’s than the man in front of him. Dave’s room had his personality in it but that stopped the moment you stepped out of his room. It made him guess that someone, perhaps a woman also lived with him or maybe Dave only paid for his room.

The fridge cracks open and Karkat blinks at the sound of glugging as Dave opens a carton of apple juice and devours it like a last drink. It was the most genuine emotion he had seen from him since Karkat had appeared. Disgusting.

* * *

‘So. What do you want from me,’ Karkat broaches, twirling noodles around his fork, somewhat unwilling to hurry his meal. He'd rather not get right into service, but lower demons weren't allotted that luxury. Some part of him hopes Dave is the type to want him around- Hell was starting to get dangerous. The higher ups weren't so enthusiastic about Karkat being around, seeing him gradually climb up the ranks. _No one has to worry about that._ He thinks bitterly.

Dave turns to face Karkat, the fridge's light highlighting strong features, high cheekbones, full lips, and a broad nose. He seems surprised by the question. ‘Shiit I dunno. This whole thing is weird, like I got a stripper instead of a clown, poor dude is standing there awkardly with his wang out, only able to stand frozen in time as children scream bloody murder at the sight. you've traumatized the children Karkat I was only looking for some wholesome fun times, preferably on this dick i can't believe you let me and junior down.’ He takes a breath and clarifies, ‘You can sleep on the couch and loaf around for a while. You good with roommates?’

* * *

Karkat blinks at that. Everything is rallying in his favor so why does it still feel like he was missing a step in this staircase of events. That lurch that came from misstepping was there, along with the noodles in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it’s lingering paranoia from living two steps ahead of others (sometimes more) to ensure his safety in hell. Maybe it feels like too little strings attached to circumstances when the last time… No, no dammit, this wasn’t going to fucking go like last time. He grits his teeth so hard the metal of the fork squeaked under the pressure.

‘It doesn’t go unnoticed in the silent house, Dave asks if he’s ok and Karkat answers by a rough nod.’ ‘It’s just difficult for me to accept sometimes.’

‘What? The food? Dude I asked and you didn’t decline I didn’t think it would disagree with you so fast. The bathroom is right upstairs, don’t use the one in Rose’s room, shit probably smells dank as fuck. Like she birthed worm babies, incubated within the alcohol that replaces her stomach acid.’ 

‘NO? SHUT UP. I’m divulging some information so you better listen the fuck up dickweed. I won’t be repeating myself either so fucking get a pencil and some paper, write it down so it can settle gently into the gray matter you call a brain.’ Karkat pushes away the last traces of his meal, and crosses his arms looking at Dave across the island kitchen counter.

For a minute Karkat is just staring at Dave as he finishes his bowl. And then another one because, ‘it’s the nighttime munchies bro don’t stifle my vibe’. Karkatis set on Dave taking this seriously and if he has to withstand the slurping that Strider began to exaggerate, for what he can only surmise was for his own benefit, then he was going to.

Dave snickers at the irritated look crossing Karkat’s face, dark brows scrunched and sharp pupils looking over his shoulder to avoid the now open mouthed eating he was practicing . He’s soon finished and goes to pick up and place the bowls in the sink, Karkat giving a short ‘thank you’ (looking him in the eyes!), and running water over them.

‘So I don’t exactly have paper on me. The person who has that is Rose, she’s the one with everything useful in her purse and then some, so is it ok if I tap it out on my phone instead?’

‘That’s fine,’ Karkat answers in an unsurprisingly curt manner.

‘Last time I was summoned into this accursed realm, it was by a witch who worked from the circus. Gamzee Makara. He's well known for his black magic work in Hell, so when he summoned me and a couple of my friends, I really should have been honored beyond belief.’

Karkat takes a second to take an unnecessary breath. "He meant to summon just me, but just like you, he made a mistake. He ended up summoning me, Nepeta and Equius, only because we happened to be of similar breeds. Actual sex daemons if you can believe it. He. He killed them right in front of me because they were collateral damage. I let my rage get the better of me and tore the bond, something I don’t even regret, so here I am now.’ Karkat fixes his wet eyes away from his master, ashamed of this uncomely behavior.

* * *

Dave sucks in a breath. That was a lot. A lot in a short span of time but he wasn’t going to remark on that to Karkat. It seemed like it was taking a toll on him to talk on the subject. Karkat hadn’t once looked at Dave directly during the tale, keeping to over his shoulder as if he had a mouthful of food.

‘That was a horrible thing to happen to you Karkat, I’m uh. I’m sorry.’ And he’s being sincere here, as difficult as it tends to be. But Jesus Christ. The thought of two people being offed in front of him just for the sake of being there. Kill the spare(s) and all that wouldn’t have possibly sat kindly in Dave’s mind afterward. He knows he wouldn’t even stand to live. (Don’t think about Dirk.) He wonders if Karkat feels that way too- if he’s ever tried suicide or whatever the undead equivalent of that is. Was this banishment enforced, or his own doing?

‘Why are you apologizing? None of it is connected to you.’ Karkat huffs, nails digging into his white suit.

‘Well... yeah but also it was a witch summoning you that kicked off that unfortunate series of events and also a witch who decided that killing two demons was better than losing his soul in the process of dismissing them. Or you know just dealing with the consequences of your actions. Which is funny that I’m remarking on that but I will defend my past actions in summoning you.’

This earns Dave Karkat’s full line of sight, his red pupils contracting as they focus on him. The disbelief is apparent in his expression and Dave nods not unkindly in response. 

‘Thaaaat’s right you are not getting rid of me. I’m a witch of many talents why shouldn’t I have some loyal sidekick by my side while I get my witchcraft on?? It’s not like I have anything else going for me right now,’ Dave’s smirk turns sour at his last remark. The visible creeping sense of sleep and the worries he was trying to chase away at the edges.

‘I’m not some fucking sidekick to your overinflated ego Strider,” Karkat growls. Despite his demeanor, he must bee internally freaking the fuck out

Dave back pedals, ‘Not exactly a sidekick but something like a familiar then? I siphon magic off of myself when not needed and you absorb it as a surplus. Then whenever you or I need it we can bust it out like the game winning card in yu gi oh. You're a demon I had no idea existed, a blood demon so I’m sure you have expertise in areas I don’t so that could be useful! This can all be yours, savings and extra cash, ALL of it if you decide to sleep on my couch. Call 1800 to cash in one this deal now, for just 9.99!’

* * *

‘Wow Dave, that sure is a lot of bullshit that somehow manages to tie into something creatively insulting at every turn! What's that? You needed to turn left? Well too fucking bad you're on a oneway turn, there's no where to go other than 'Dave doesn't have any fucking tact road! So fuck you personally.’ 

Karkat calms, and pretends to consider the deal. Pretends to, because they both know he's going to take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I have a duty to explore the indisputable comedy that equius and nepeta serve as sex demons difkfkg


End file.
